


trouble trouble trouble

by oneprotagonistshort



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 18:31:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4716242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneprotagonistshort/pseuds/oneprotagonistshort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Blaine left New York to find himself, he never could have guessed that he’d find himself working with Sebastian to bring the Warblers back to their former glory. Sebastian was trouble, after all, but Blaine couldn’t help but think that maybe a little trouble would be good for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	trouble trouble trouble

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is roughly set in season six but plays fast and loose with a lot of canon, diverging completely when Dalton doesn’t burn to the ground and the Warblers don’t join New Directions. I also moved a lot of season six’s sectionals stuff to regionals because REASONS. Warblers performances/song choices all based on ones I’ve seen from the Princeton Footnotes, links at the end. Working title: “self-indulgent seblaine manifesto.” Current title: 100% from the Taylor Swift song. Special thanks to midtrains for the beta, techno for the enabling, and my seblaine anons for the encouragement!
> 
> Also worth noting: this work is not particularly Kurt or klaine friendly, so if you’re looking for a happy and amicable breakup you might want to look elsewhere.

It started with a fight. And then another fight. Then more fights after that. It became hard for Blaine to remember what it was like to not be fighting with Kurt. Then, one day, the words “ _maybe I don’t_ ” were thrown in his face, like an engagement wasn’t a fucking promise that Kurt was breaking as though it was nothing. Blaine walked out of the cafe determined to never look back.

It took a while, but Blaine realized he needed to get out. Out of the city, out of his own head, just out. He was already out of the loft, out of NYADA, out of Kurt’s life. It was time to do something different. He was subletting from an NYU student who was studying abroad, so by the end of the summer he’d need to move anyway, and he decided to just go home. It was time to figure out who he was and what he wanted, so he went to the last place he could remember being himself.

* * *

Dalton welcomed him with open arms. 

Some things never changed, and Dalton was as stalwart as ever. He slipped into the role of director of the Warblers like he’d never left. Teachers insisted he call them by their first names, even if he could never quite bring himself to break the habit of addressing them as Mr. and Mrs. in the break room that he still felt weird being allowed in.

“So what brings you back to Dalton?” his old math teacher had asked him once, not long after he’d returned.

“I just needed to find my roots,” he said with a smile that felt like a lie over a cup of coffee that he hadn’t needed to sneak out of the teachers’ break room between class periods. The Warblers used to swipe the stuff by the gallon and drink it after rehearsals, a practice that was apparently still going strong. Blaine, like many of the other staff, just looked the other way. They were good kids, a little stolen caffeine wasn’t going to kill them.

And they were good kids, they genuinely were. Ambitious and driven, with a dedication to tradition that he didn’t quite remember having in his time. Sure, Thad probably still had his gavel and he couldn’t name one of his friends from back in the day who hadn’t held on to at least one tie, but the new generation of Warbler seemed especially vehement about following the examples set by their predecessors.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Blaine that the “predecessors” they clung to often came from before Blaine’s time at Dalton. He brought it up with Nick, one of the Warbler buddies he’d reconnected with after leaving New York, as they caught up via Skype.

“I think you forget,” Nick said, his voice tinny over the computer speakers where he was calling from college in Chicago, “that Dalton has been fighting change for decades. I still remember the teachers being in an uproar when their French press was replaced with a Keurig.”

(The students had been plenty happy about that particular change, it made the coffee easier to steal.)

“Yeah, but I didn’t think we were that adamant about it,” said Blaine. “We mixed things up sometimes, like when we sang with New Directions or in public spaces. Stuff like that had never been done before.”

Nick laughed. At Blaine’s confused face, he elaborated. “A lot of those changes were all on you, buddy. We wouldn’t have done shit with New Directions if you hadn’t been with Kurt and that performance at The Gap would never have happened without Blaine ‘you can keep your toys in the drawer tonight’ Anderson.”

Blaine could feel his face heating up at the memory of his disastrous attempt at flirting, but he smiled at the memory of his friends coming together to support him. The rehearsals had been insane, and Blaine still believed they’d brought them closer as a group. “Exactly,” he said. “We were so good, and if I was such a threat to the establishment, why did they invite me back?”

A heavy sigh from Nick let Blaine know he was missing the point. “You weren’t there after you left, Blaine. We started fighting and stopped winning and going back to the old ways seemed like the only way to get us back on top. By going back to Dalton you’re like, re-dedicating yourself to the cause or something. At least, that’s how they see it. Not to mention, this is a new generation of Warbler. They either don’t know about or are choosing not to remember what went wrong.”

“Besides,” he added, “you’re a Dalton legend. Before Kurt got involved, you were a star.”

And, okay, wow. Blaine hadn’t been expecting that. He’d just kind of assumed that all of his Warbler friends were wholeheartedly in favor of him going after Kurt. It had never occurred to him that maybe their loyalty was with him and not his relationship, just like it had never occurred to him to ask why no one from Dalton had stayed friends with Kurt after he went back to McKinley. 

There was more to this, more conversation to be had, but he wasn’t ready to have it. He ended the call with Nick with a heavy heart and promises to keep in touch. He’d have to think about it.

* * *

What Nick said followed Blaine around like a raincloud. “Before Kurt got involved.” What did that even mean? Had the relationship really changed him that much?

Then, one day as he was going over choreography with the Warblers in the practice room, it hit him. He’d had to go back to his tenth grade acapella group to find himself. Everything after that was just a wash of Kurt and what Kurt wanted what he wanted to do for Kurt.

Blaine hadn’t felt like himself in a long time, and he had to excuse himself to take in a few deep breaths of approaching-autumn air before he could go back inside.

It was time to start from scratch.

* * *

He threw himself into rehearsals, into the Warblers, into remaking himself as someone he wanted to be. He wanted to be the kind of person who helped the shyer of the Warblers speak up (he didn’t want to speak over anyone like he had in his days at Dalton, like he’d been spoken over when he got to McKinley). He wanted to help these kids be everything they could be. He wanted all of them to be stars, not just the select few.

He was in the process of snapchatting a clip of an early version of “Sing” to Nick when he got a text from Rachel.

He wanted to be the kind of person who helped his friends, regardless of what had happened to their group, so he texted her back.

Meeting up with her floored him. For her to not know that he and Kurt had even broken up was a testament to how isolated she had really made herself. He’d seen her disappear from his TV, from the public eye, even from Facebook, but he’d always assumed that even though she’d stopped answering _his_ texts she’d still be talking to _someone_. He’d kind of assumed that person would be Kurt.

They sang “Suddenly Seymour” and helped each other pick themselves up, piece by piece. After all, she was doing do the same thing he was; finding her roots and recovering from a bout of bad fortune. Things were good for a while.

Then Jane happened, and things stopped being good pretty quickly. It wasn’t about Jane, not really, the poor girl was just caught up in something she didn’t understand. In the end, Blaine didn’t really blame her for wanting to transfer, not after how the boys had treated her. He was so disappointed in their final decision, but then again, if Nick was to be believed, Blaine had always been the one to have to break tradition. The Warblers as a whole took a lot longer to come around, and he didn’t have the advantage of these guys being his friends. They were just his students, so he was already a step behind with them.

He fought anyway, despite his initial misgivings, and he almost won. Almost.

They’d said at Mr. Schue’s dinner, “no poaching.” It had been hard, seeing Kurt like that, and Blaine had felt a rush of the old hurt come back every time Kurt had failed to meet his gaze. And then for Rachel to suddenly turn on him and take away a gifted student who he’d been fighting tooth and nail to keep… it was too much. She obviously had as much respect for her promises as Kurt did for his. There had to be a reason for her to go back on her word like this, and Blaine couldn’t help but think that reason was standing next to her at the piano.

He stormed into the auditorium with a strong mask of fake anger. It hurt, having his relationship with Rachel go from, “ _from here on out it’s you and me together_ ” to “ _I cannot believe you did this_ ” in just a matter of days. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how her betrayal really made him feel.

“I was humiliated!” he admitted, his voice rising just a little more than he wanted it to. He was, he’d threatened to quit his job, he’d tried to overrule tradition again. And now he had nothing to show for it. The Warblers were more out of sync than they’d been since the school year started, half of them insisting it was for the best and half insisting they’d lost a major competitive advantage. Blaine had been forced to confiscate the gavel, at least for the time being.

And then Kurt opened his mouth. “...and god knows how many other students at Dalton who would kill to join.” Somehow when he said it Blaine was brought back to “ _you are the alpha gay, even Rachel wanted to make out with you_ ” and the waves of hurt he’d felt at that initial meeting washed over him tenfold. He hadn’t thought it would be that easy to knock him back down to a scared high school junior, but there it was. He wondered how long it would take for that fight to stop stinging. Once again, Kurt seemed to imply that everyone wanted to be him. Blaine didn’t even want to be himself some days, and he failed to see the appeal.

“Don’t act all cool and loving about this, Kurt,” he said. “I’m sure you’re very happy about all of this. I wouldn’t be surprised if you made this all happen after seeing me take care of your best friend after you did absolutely nothing for her when she needed you.”

The look on Kurt’s face confirmed what Blaine had already guessed from his conversations with Rachel. After she’d gone off the grid, he hadn’t gone looking for her. She hadn’t even known they’d broken off the engagement, she hadn’t known anything. Why, Blaine didn’t know. But it just made it even worse that Rachel had sided with Kurt immediately as soon as he’d decided to roll back into town. 

The new kid said, “Maybe I should just go?” and all three of them stopped him. 

“You should stay and see what kind of people your coaches are,” Blaine said, and he’d feel bad about it later. Like Jane, this kid was just getting roped into an argument that had started long before the New Directions had even been reformed. It wasn’t his fault.

But when Blaine said, “This whole friendly competition thing? It’s over,” he meant it. He wasn’t going to let Kurt get the best of him again.

* * *

Blaine was surprised by the request to join New Directions at invitationals at McKinley. At least, he would have been if not for the fact that the invitation came from Sue’s McKinley email address. He made a mental note to keep an eye out for anything shady.

He dodged a few of Sue’s traps in the McKinley hallways and avoided Kurt and Rachel at all costs, a task made difficult when they deliberately sought him out. There was a time in Blaine’s life when he would have thrown the competition to help the underdogs, but he couldn’t do that now. The Warblers had been working too hard. He’d been working too hard. Besides, it wasn’t like he owed them anything.

* * *

After invitationals when the Warblers were piling into their various cars wondering what exactly had just happened, Blaine supervised from the parking lot, wondering the same thing. He hoped his guys wouldn’t be too upset by what they’d seen because, admittedly, New Directions had pulled it together better than anyone could have anticipated, but he had a feeling that they were mostly just as confused as he was.

A slow clap startled Blaine out of his thoughts, and he turned around to see the last person he’d ever expect to find at McKinley, or even in Ohio.

“Sebastian?” he asked, not sure of what he was looking at. He wondered vaguely if another part of the school had popped a gas leak and if he was seeing things again. There were no puppets in sight though, so it had to be real.

“Hey killer,” Sebastian said, sticking out his hand and grinning when Blaine shook it. Blaine felt himself grinning back.

That didn’t do much to explain why Sebastian was there though, and Blaine was still confused. “Wha- what are you doing here?” he asked, visibly surprised.

“Don’t look so happy to see me,” Sebastian laughed. 

“I mean, of course I’m happy to see you,” Blaine said. “I just didn’t expect to see you _here._ ”

Sebastian’s smile faltered for a split second. “It’s a long story,” he said. “Come on, I’ll buy you some coffee and tell you all about it.”

They ended up at The Lima Bean of all places, stepping in about an hour and a half before closing time. They sat at a corner table by the window; it looked out over the parking lot so there wasn’t as much of a view, but they seemed to agree that any of the old tables would just be weird.

“So,” Blaine said, setting his coffee down on the small table between them. “What brings you to Ohio? Better yet, why were you at invitationals?”

Blaine hadn’t heard much from Sebastian after getting his help with the proposal. He’d kind of written it off as different schools, different lives, different paths. He wasn’t even sure where Sebastian had been accepted to college, or if he’d gone at all. 

“I could ask you the same question,” Sebastian said. “What happened to New York?”

“I asked first,” Blaine said, shooting a skeptical look at Sebastian.

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, taking a long sip of his coffee. “I heard you were coaching the Warblers,” he said, “and I just couldn’t miss that. A Dalton legend back in his old stomping grounds? That’s gotta be a sight to see. Your turn.”

Ignoring the fact that Sebastian hadn’t really answered the question, Blaine decided to just go for the straight truth. “Kurt and I broke up,” he said. “He broke off the engagement and I moved home to get my head on straight.”

“Shitty.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Blaine asked, incredulous.

“I mean, yeah,” Sebastian said, shrugging his shoulders. “What else do you want me to say?”

“I… I don’t know,” said Blaine, realizing he didn’t. “I was expecting you to say something about how I dodged a bullet or was saved from a sexless marriage with the human version of one of those horrible hairless cats. That or a real-life version of the praise hands emoji.”

Sebastian laughed. “I mean, I always want to say shit like that but it’s pretty telling that _you’re_ the one saying it, don’t you think?”

Blaine huffed out a breath of air that was too exasperated to really be a laugh. Not that he would laugh at something like that anyway. Probably. “Whatever,” he dismissed Sebastian’s question with a slight wave of his hand. He’d have to think about it later. “So what did you think of the performance?”

“It was alright,” Sebastian said, “the song selection could use a little work and the choreography wasn’t as clean as it could be, but you were definitely better than the others, at least.”

“Sebastian,” Blaine warned.

“Whatever, fine, you guys were great,” he said. “‘My Sharona’ was a weird choice, though.”

That got a laugh out of Blaine. “What,” he said, teasing, “you think you could do better?”

“Maybe,” Sebastian said with the devious grin that had always made Blaine want to grin right back.

Once they’d been kicked out of The Lima Bean by disgruntled employees looking pointedly at the clock, they shook hands again before leaving in their respective cars. When he got home, Blaine stared at his phone for a while before opening a new text.

He’d deleted a lot of their old messages at Kurt’s request, but Blaine had never quite been able to bring himself to delete Sebastian’s number. Before he could think twice, he typed out a message and hit send.

_if you really think you can do better, we rehearse at three tomorrow_

He was surprised by how quickly his phone vibrated with a response.

_sectionals won’t know what hit it_

* * *

Somehow Blaine was still surprised when Sebastian showed up at practice the next day, wearing a button down and jeans like it was no big deal that he was back in Ohio and back at his old high school. Blaine would’ve pegged him as the first to be running out the door, but then again, Blaine had been wrong about a lot of things over the past few years.

He had to admit though, it was nice having someone else there to bounce ideas off of. Blaine could admit to areas where he needed improvement, and choreography was one of them. The Warblers had some great ideas and had largely been able to choreograph themselves, but Sebastian had some really good input. Blaine was brought back to the day they met, with Sebastian showing off by flipping himself up off the floor during Uptown Girl.

He’d been a little stunned by Sebastian even then, no one had ever really hit on him before and Blaine was fairly certain Sebastian had done it without even thinking about it. It was easy to stutter and look away, but for some reason Blaine had always eventually looked back up.

By the end of the rehearsal, everyone was out of breath but happy with their progress. The kids seemed to be moving on from the Jane debacle and the mood was generally optimistic about their chance at sectionals, even so early on.

As the boys filtered out of the practice room, Blaine walked up to Sebastian with a big smile. “You did great today,” he said. “We might just need you to come back tomorrow.”

And to his surprise, Sebastian did.

He came back the day after that, too. And the day after that. By the end of the week Blaine stopped being surprised to see him walk into the room and after two weeks he’d started delegating some of the more menial managerial tasks to senior Warblers so that he and Sebastian could brainstorm new ideas or improve on old ones. Sectionals was fast approaching for them, and even though they were a favorite to come out on top, they’d still need an edge against New Directions at regionals.

Blaine hadn’t been surprised by the New Directions’ victory at their own sectionals; they’d pulled it together so well at invitationals and Rachel had somehow gotten them an exemption from the member minimum so he could already tell they’d be a force to be reckoned with. He knew from his days as a member of the McKinley High glee club that it was tough to quash their spirits and he knew from his time with Rachel and Kurt that their ambition and desire to win would make them ruthless.

Sometimes he wondered if that had been part of the problem, that Kurt had spent so much time on the bottom that he didn’t care whose heart he stepped on as he climbed his way up. Blaine had once said, “ _I don’t like how I feel about myself anymore_ ” and he’d been met with outrage. He’d said “ _and one day you’re gonna wake up and realize that ‘I don’t love him anymore’_ ” and he’d been proven right.

He’d always liked how he felt with Sebastian. They’d always been equals and were even more so now that they were working together as a team. Blaine had never been able to compete with Sebastian, only ever against him, so the change in dynamic was nice.

It was working, too.

After three weeks of rehearsals, things were really coming together. Working their way back to their pop roots (“My Sharona” had been, admittedly, a weird choice), they’d pieced together an insane vocal arrangement of “Some Nights,” which was followed by an even crazier “Uptown Funk” which showed off their new choreography. Trial runs performed for Dalton’s student body were wildly successful and Blaine and Sebastian finally agreed that they were ready.

After a particularly rigorous Friday afternoon rehearsal, Sebastian approached Blaine with a question. “Hey,” he said, “we should go out. Blow off some steam. You’ve been working too hard.”

Blaine laughed. “We’ve all been working too hard, Sebastian. It’s how we got so good. Sectionals is in a week, we can’t not work too hard.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Sebastian said. “Let’s just do something.”

“Scandals?” Blaine asked, only partially joking. 

Sebastian pulled a disgusted face. “Absolutely not. We’re too hot for that place and I’m so over being hit on by guys who are old enough to play golf with my dad.”

“What else, then?” Blaine asked.

“Well, if you want a drink,” Sebastian said, “I can arrange that.”

* * *

They ended up at Sebastian’s tiny apartment in what Blaine supposed could be called “downtown” Westerville, not that Westerville had all that much to call a downtown. Blaine hadn’t asked why Sebastian wasn’t staying with his parents since he was back in Ohio as he hadn’t really gotten an answer as to why Sebastian was in Ohio in the first place. At that point he didn’t really expect one. 

Blaine hitched a ride with Sebastian, leaving his car at Dalton and making his intentions perfectly clear: _let’s get wasted_. He didn’t drink often and he didn’t usually feel the need to, there would be plenty of time for that once he was actually legal. But tonight was about letting off steam, and Sebastian had informed him that there was a bottle of rum with his name on it waiting for them.

“God,” Blaine said once the first of the alcohol started to settle into his system. “I think I needed this."

Sebastian laughed. “Of course you did. Like I said, you’ve been working too hard. Chill out and unwind a little bit.”

And Blaine did. By the time his drink was more rum than Coke and his bowtie hung loosely where it was untied around his neck, Blaine felt more at ease than he had in weeks. He hadn’t realized how much tension he’d been carrying until the booze melted it away, and he was sure it would come back once he sobered up, but until then it was a welcome relief. In the meantime, he was hell-bent on getting more information from Sebastian, who’d been oddly silent about his personal life.

“Really though,” he said, unsubtly directing their conversation directing their conversation from where they’d been talking about whether the boys should pin their ties or leave them loose, “why are you here? You couldn’t wait to get out of Ohio.”

Sebastian sighed and finished what was left of his drink. “You really want to know?” Blaine gave him a small nod and he continued. “Okay, the short version of a much longer story is that I took a gap year to go back to Paris to take in the ‘culture,’” Sebastian used air quotes to show exactly what he thought of the French, “but I took in a lot of parties instead. One of them got busted, someone had cocaine, the French police were not happy to see an American kid in the mix.”

“Holy shit,” Blaine interrupted.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, staring steadfastly into the bottom of his empty glass. “My parents found out and I was dragged home and now by day I’m a part-time minimum wage intern where my dad works. I have exactly a year to get it together or I’m cut off.”

Blaine let out a low whistle. “That’s intense.”

“Try living it,” Sebastian said, finally looking up. “But hey, I got some good times in before I was parentally deported.”

“Well I, for one, am glad you’re back,” said Blaine, meaning every word. “It’s been really great having you as co-director of the Warblers.”

“Oh, I’m co-director now?” asked Sebastian with mock surprise. “I’m glad my contributions are finally being recognized. It’s only a matter of time before I push you out completely and my reign begins anew.”

Blaine laughed, smacking Sebastian in the shoulder and finishing the last of his own drink. “Shut up,” he said. “Make me another one.”

Thirty minutes and the rest of the rum later found Sebastian sprawled out on his couch and Blaine sitting on the floor with his back against it as he shut his eyes against the way the room was tilting. Suddenly feeling honest, he asked a question that had been on his mind for a while. “You haven’t hit on me yet,” he observed, eyes still closed. “Why not?”

“Do you want me to?” Sebastian asked, once again doing a remarkable job of not answering the question. Blaine sighed heavily, giving into gravity and straight up lying down on the floor, parallel to Sebastian. If he opened his eyes and turned his head enough Blaine could almost see his face. “I mean, I can if you want.”

“That’s not the point, Sebastian,” Blaine said, even though it kind of was. Did he want Sebastian to hit on him? He thought back to high school when Sebastian had been relentless. It had been nice, having someone try to fight for him like he was something worth winning. Kurt had pushed back, just a little and just at first, but even then Blaine had had a sinking feeling that it had had less to do with keeping Blaine for himself than it did with keeping Blaine away from Sebastian. “You know,” he said slowly, “I never minded. Kurt hated it, obviously, but it never really bothered me.”

Sebastian chuckled, low in the back of his throat, and Blaine found himself smiling. “I’m glad my advances had such a profound effect on you.”

“You know what I mean,” Blaine said. “I liked it enough that Kurt saw you as a threat.”

“You never would have,” Sebastian said.

“I did,” Blaine admitted. “Not with you, but I did.” Regardless of what had happened with his relationship with Kurt, it was something he’d always regret. “He thought it was you.”

“I absolutely would have,” Sebastian said, and at Blaine’s “really?” he gave a small shrug. “One hundred percent. But I don’t have the same moral compass you do.”

And that, _that_ was interesting. Blaine knew, logically, that Sebastian had been chasing after him for a reason, that it wasn’t just for sport or to piss off the competition. It was just weird to suddenly reconcile “ _sex on a stick and sings like a dream_ ” with the idea that Sebastian might have actually had real feelings for him. He knew Sebastian had feelings, obviously, that much had become clear after the slushie and after Karofsky when Sebastian had said, “ _it’s all fun and games until it’s not_.”

Blaine had snuck a few illicit phone calls that week and Sebastian had quietly confessed that he’d had no idea how much damage rock salt could do. He hadn’t thought it through. It was the only time Blaine had seen him shaken, but by the time they met up again over the stolen nationals trophy it was back to quips about playing nice and attempts to get him to rejoin the Warblers. He’d seemed happy enough to help Blaine propose to Kurt, and Blaine had kind of assumed that by that point Sebastian had lost interest.

He’d kind of assumed that by now, he would’ve lost interest too.

Suddenly he couldn’t stop wondering what it would’ve been like if it had been Sebastian and not Eli. What it would have been like if he and Kurt had stayed broken up and Blaine had chosen someone he didn’t have to fight like hell to keep. It was a lot to think about, and Blaine was too drunk to keep up.

“Hey,” he said, opening his eyes to look up at Sebastian only to find him already asleep. “Lightweight,” he muttered, and he hauled himself up and onto the nearby recliner, popping the footrest and promptly falling asleep himself.

He woke up in the morning with a dry mouth and hair that was hanging pretty precariously onto the edge between “disheveled” and “disastrous” and Sebastian in the kitchen singing “Wake Up Call” by Maroon 5. Something was cooking, and Blaine was going to need to eat something to fend off the headache he could already feel encroaching.

He did what he could with his hair, slipped his bowtie the rest of the way off, and unbuttoned the top buttons of his polo before joining Sebastian in the kitchen. “Something smells good,” he said, interrupting him somewhere between “ _he won’t come around here anymore_ ” and “ _I don’t feel so bad_.”

“Don’t get too excited,” Sebastian said, flipping a pancake and poking at it a little with the spatula. “These are from a premade mix I got on sale for two dollars at Kroger. All I needed to do was add water.”

“You totally just ruined it,” Blaine said. “I would have believed you if you’d told me you made them from scratch.”

Sebastian slid a few of the pancakes off the skillet and onto a plate. “In that case,” he said, “I got this recipe from one of the chefs de cuisine I studied under at La Sorbonne. Only three people in the world know how to make it.”

Blaine laughed. “Does La Sorbonne even have a culinary department?” he asked, taking the fork offered to him by Sebastian and sitting down with a plate of pancakes.

“Who knows?” Sebastian shrugged. “When I was there my diet was mostly crepes and vodka.” While Blaine choked on a pancake Sebastian slid a few more onto a plate of his own. 

“Thank you,” Blaine said sincerely once he’d inhaled his food. “For everything. I needed this.”

“They’re just pancakes, Blaine,” said Sebastian, once again making everything a joke. He surprised Blaine with a softer smile, though, and said, “You’re welcome.”

* * *

It was later on Saturday morning than either of them would have liked, and they still had to pick up Blaine’s car at Dalton, so they left not long after everything from breakfast had been put away. Blaine’s mind was still reeling a little from “ _I absolutely would have_ ” and in the light of day and sobriety it was harder to not think about. Blaine couldn’t help but think that in another time, in some alternate universe, they would have. He couldn’t help but think about what would have happened if they had.

They drove back to Dalton, still having the debate over pinned ties versus loose ones, and when they made it back to the school, Blaine’s car was the only one in the parking lot. Once Sebastian had pulled up next to it, Blaine grabbed his bag and moved to get out of the car.

Halfway through Sebastian’s, “So I’ll text you later, we can-” something in Blaine snapped and he turned a full 180 degrees, leaning over the center console and interrupting whatever Sebastian was about to say with a hard kiss on the mouth. They lingered like that for a few seconds until Blaine pulled away and a soft, “Oh,” from Sebastian pulled him back down to earth and made him realize the reality of what he’d done.

“I should- I should go. I’m sorry,” he said, clamoring out of the passenger’s side door while trying to look anywhere but at Sebastian. “I’m sorry,” he said again, shutting the car door a little too hard and wincing at the noise it made. He got in his car and drove off, trying not to notice how Sebastian was still parked.

* * *

The first thing he did when he got home was shower. The second thing he did was re-gel his hair. The third thing he did was text Nick.

“You did _what?!_ ” Nick asked, shocked but not immediately appalled, from what Blaine could see of his dorm room. He’d decided before dropping any revelations that it was too big for texting, so he’d asked Nick to get on Skype. It was the first time they’d really talked since the “before you got with Kurt” conversation, and Blaine finally felt like it was a conversation he was ready to have. “And then you _left?!_ ” came Nick’s next question, and Blaine buried his face in his hands.

“I know,” he said. “I’m awful.” It had only been a few hours, but the guilt had already started to set in. He still hadn’t heard from Sebastian. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” This wasn’t like him--not that he had a whole lot of experience going for him. When he’d kissed Kurt, it was after days of introspection and practicing exactly what he wanted to say. He’d always wanted to make sure he was saying the right thing. He still wasn’t sure what the right thing with Sebastian would have been, but he was pretty certain it wasn’t what he had come up with.

“There’s a lot wrong with you, Blaine,” Nick said, but he was smiling so there was no way he meant it, at least not seriously, “but I don’t think you’re awful. Let’s just break this down and figure out why you’re freaking out like this.”

“Last time we talked,” said Blaine, “you said I was a star ‘before’ I got with Kurt. What did you mean by that?”

Nick sighed. “I could have worded that better,” he admitted. “It’s just that, as soon as you got together with Kurt, it stopped being about you. Which was good, at first. We’d gotten way out of hand when it came to giving you solos and stuff but like… it was like you stopped existing as Blaine. You were Blaine _plus_ Kurt.”

“Ouch,” said Blaine, looking down. That one hurt.

“I’m just telling you the truth,” Nick said. “Someone should have sooner, but at the time it seemed like you were happy, so everyone was happy for you. And then you just disappeared. First it was just like, not wanting to hang out after practice or whatever, but then you literally transferred schools and lost touch with all of us. We so were happy to finally see you when you showed up like two months later that we tried to stage a big reunion dinner all the way up in Lima just for you, but you were so busy with West Side Story that you never got back to any of us.” Blaine remembered; he’d been fighting with Kurt and then making up with Kurt and he hadn’t noticed the messages until it was too late. “And okay, while I’m being honest, do you really think Sebastian stole Michael on his own? He needed help, Blaine, and a lot of the guys were pissed enough to give it to him.”

Blaine didn’t ask if Nick had been one of them, he didn’t want to know. “I had no idea,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” Nick said, causing Blaine to look back up at the computer screen. “Of course you didn’t. Shit happens, you were in love and you were happy and you got busy. Whatever. I kept my mouth shut. The reason I’m telling you this now is because it’s started to seem like you weren’t all that happy after all.”

“I wasn’t,” Blaine said without thinking, and the words came as a surprise. Judging by the look on Nick’s face, they’d come as a surprise to him too.

“Why did you kiss Sebastian, Blaine?”

“Because I wanted to.”

“And when was the last time you did something just because _you_ wanted to?” Blaine didn’t have an answer for him, not a real one anyway. Sensing this, Nick continued. "I think you’d be good for each other.”

That wasn't exactly what Blaine had been expecting to hear. “What makes you say that?”

Nick smiled. “You weren’t really there after he almost blinded you. He tried not to show it but the guy was a wreck for weeks. After that he tried _so hard_ to play nice with you and the New Directions, even when Hunter was breathing down our necks to fight dirty. Yeah, he tried to push to get you back, but we all did. I’ve never seen anyone so determined to make things right. You bring out the best in him, and I think you need to be in a relationship where that’s the case.”

“I think you’re right,” Blaine said thoughtfully, and when they hung up, he head felt clearer than it had in a while.

* * *

He showed up to Warbler practice early on Monday, surprised to find Sebastian already there. “Hey,” he said, not sure how to proceed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sebastian said, and when Blaine started to protest, “No. Seriously. It was only a matter of time before my animal magnetism got the best of you, so don’t make it weird. You’re fine.”

And this coming from Sebastian, the guy who’d spent two years trying to get in his pants and probably longer just staring at his ass, was all Blaine needed to know. The reason Sebastian hadn’t been hitting on him since he was back in Ohio was because he just wasn’t interested anymore. He was giving Blaine an out.

“Thank you,” Blaine said, blushing a little and looking at the floor. “I don’t know what that was. Thanks for being so chill about it.”

“Any time,” said Sebastian, and then as an afterthought he added, “Oh, and by the way, I need to duck out of Thursday’s rehearsal a little early if that’s alright.”

Blaine looked up, cocking his head to the side. “Yeah Sebastian, that’s fine. Why, what’s up?”

Sebastian grinned, looking more like the high school junior who was known for starting trouble than Blaine had been used to seeing him lately. “I have a buddy in Columbus who can get me a wristband for an all you can drink thirsty Thursday special at a bar on his street. If I bring my own cup it’s ten dollars for the whole night.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Blaine asked, a little confused. After all, wasn’t partying too much what had gotten him into all that trouble in the first place?

“It’ll be fine,” Sebastian said with an edge to his voice that Blaine had never heard. If that was how it was going to be, part of him thought, then fine. Blaine would wash his hands of it.

Sebastian made that hard to do, though. He was late Tuesday, later Wednesday, and on Thursday he hadn’t come at all, texting Blaine about an hour before practice was supposed to start.

_had to leave early. meet you at sectionals tomorrow_

So it wasn’t even that he had forgotten that they were in the vital few days before a competition, he just didn’t care. Cool. Blaine was sick of making excuses for him but the Warblers were starting to wonder what was up, and telling them even a little bit of the truth would demoralize them right before they were supposed to compete. He made up a lie about Sebastian not feeling well and hoped it was enough.

* * *

By the time sectionals was over and Sebastian was a total no-show, Blaine was fuming. The Warblers had crushed it, of course they had, but their victory was dampened somewhat by Sebastian’s absence. He’d become such an integral part of the team that his absence was noticeable and left everyone looking anxiously out into the audience like that might somehow make him magically appear. As Blaine shook hands with his team while the requisite confetti fell, he felt like every nerve in his body was attuned to the phone in his pocket, waiting for it to vibrate.

It never did.

When he went to bed on Friday night, Blaine was furious. As Saturday wore on, he became livid. By Sunday morning, he was ready for a fight. He figured by Sunday afternoon that Sebastian would have at least been sleeping off whatever bender he’d apparently gone on, so that was when he made his way to his apartment.

He hit the buzzer once, waited a minute, and hit it again. Then again. And again. Finally, a familiar but groggy voice crackled over the speaker. “Jesus Christ,” it said. “What do you want?”

“Let me in, Sebastian,” said Blaine. “I need to talk to you.”

Sebastian groaned from the other end of the connection but buzzed Blaine in anyway, and Blaine opted to take the stairs up to Sebastian’s apartment, anger mounting with every step. He knocked on the door with as much restraint as he could muster, and when Sebastian opened it, Blaine barged in.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he demanded, wheeling around to find Sebastian standing there looking like he’d been hit by a party bus. He’d obviously just woken up, he was still in his boxers and the shirt he’d obviously hastily thrown on was wrinkled beyond all recognition. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I got stuck in Columbus,” Sebastian said, voice still groggy. He didn’t offer up any more of an explanation than that.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure you were real stuck,” Blaine scoffed, gesturing to the neon pink wristband from whatever bar Sebastian had conned his way into that was still on his wrist. “What, did you drop your phone into someone’s beer? You could have at least given me a lie to give the Warblers so they weren’t looking for you.” They’d been so disappointed. 

Sebastian sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Of course you don’t,” said Blaine coldly. “You never do, do you?”

“What do you want me to say, Blaine? I’m sorry,” said Sebastian, looking up at the ceiling but not seeming outwardly apologetic. 

That wasn’t good enough for Blaine. “You know what, Sebastian? I don’t know why I’m surprised. I guess I just thought we’d worked too hard for you to throw it away with what’s left of your dignity in a bar somewhere in Columbus.” Blaine had never been angry like this, never. He didn’t like the way it made him feel and he knew it wasn’t sustainable. He just hoped he could say what he had come to say before it collapsed.

“You don’t get to judge me,” Sebastian said, rounding on Blaine with a ferocity that surprised him. “I never promised you anything.” And he hadn’t, not really, it was more of an implicit agreement than an outright commitment to anything, but that didn’t change the fact that they’d worked too closely for the past few weeks for it to blow up like this.

“Screw you, Sebastian,” Blaine said quietly, making for the door. “Have fun wasting your life.”

“What life?” came the outburst from behind him, and Blaine turned to meet Sebastian’s gaze. “I spend three days a week making photocopies for the state and the rest of my time at my old high school.”

Blaine felt like he’d hit a little too close to home, and he deflated a little. “I’m sorry,” he said, running a hand over his face.

“Don’t be fucking sorry!” Sebastian said, voice rising as he threw his hands over his head. “I acted like an asshole, you’re allowed to be mad! I- I just. I’m not Kurt, Blaine, you can’t make problems go away by apologizing.”

That jab got a little too real, and Blaine felt himself getting more heated. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Sebastian.”

“You know what,” Sebastian said, “maybe I don’t. I have no idea what happened between you two. But I know a lot of guys like Kurt, and I know what they’d do to a guy like you. Why do you think I was on his ass from day one?”

Blaine had always assumed antagonizing Kurt had more to do with having fun pissing off the competition than with Blaine himself regardless of how Sebastian may have felt about him, but it made sense in retrospect. If Sebastian had had those feelings for Blaine, and it was starting to feel like he had, Kurt would have been a prime target to let out his frustrations on. He wasn’t sure how the fight had taken this particular turn, but he didn’t like it. 

“Stop it,” Blaine said, and he was already losing steam. “Stop acting like you were protecting me from him. He’s not the one who threw rock salt in my eye.” When Sebastian visibly flinched, he continued. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish with this?”

Sebastian stilled. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he said again, and this time Blaine believed him.

“Well figure it out,” Blaine said. “I don’t want to see you at practice until you do.” And with that, he left.

* * *

Blaine barely slept that night. His mind was a constantly-looping montage of “ _hey killer_ ” and blinding eye pain and “ _I absolutely would have_ ” and the crushing disappointment of someone letting him down yet again. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, part of him had known all along that Sebastian would never change. But another part of him had hoped that he could.

He turned and checked his clock. 5:00. He’d gotten a few hours, at least. He decided to head over to Dalton early; the sectionals trophies were big this year and wrestling it out of his car was going to be a challenge, but it would be worth it for the boys to be able to see it put up before homeroom. 

He made it to Dalton by six in the morning and was surprised to find his car wasn’t the first in the parking lot. He was even more surprised to recognize the other car as Sebastian’s. He didn’t know where to start looking for him, only that he should, so he started with the practice room. Nothing. Teachers’ lounge, more nothing. He looked what felt like everywhere; nothing, nothing, nothing.

It didn’t occur to him until he was placing the sectionals trophy prominently in the practice room that his spaces at Dalton and Sebastian’s spaces at Dalton might be different. He found Sebastian running laps around the football field on the Dalton track at 6:30am on Monday morning.

He was wearing an old Dalton Lacrosse shirt that was sweat-darkened enough to indicate that he’d been at it for a while. He slowed to a stop as he neared Blaine and pulled the earbuds out of his ears. Blaine couldn’t tell what he was listening to, only that it was loud.

“Hey,” Blaine said, “I’m sorry I yelled at you.” He was, and Sebastian looked like he’d slept about as much as Blaine had. He felt like he needed to fix it.

Sebastian rolled his eyes but then looked down, trying to avoid looking at Blaine. “I told you, don’t be sorry. I fucked up, it’s what I do.” Blaine didn’t like how much Sebastian looked like he believed it, just like he didn’t like how Sebastian didn’t seem able to look him in the eyes.

“You’re better than that, Sebastian,” said Blaine, and when Sebastian finally looked up he looked surprised.

“No I’m not,” he said. “All it took for me to go back to wasting my life was one tiny rejection and-”

That was new information. Blaine stopped him by holding up a hand. “Wait, you thought I was rejecting you?” In retrospect, he could see where flying out of the car at lightspeed after kissing Sebastian could be seen as a rejection, but on Monday morning he’d planned… well. He wasn’t sure what he’d planned on doing, but it sure as hell wasn’t a rejection.

“Blaine, you couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I can take a hint.”

“No, it’s not-” Blaine started. “You’re the one who told me not to make it weird!”

The realization that there had maybe been some miscommunication seemed to be dawning on both of them at the same time, as they slowly transitioned from furrowed brows to progressively bigger smiles.

“You’d already made it weird, I just didn’t want you to feel obligated just because I was helping with the Warblers-”

“Sebastian, you’re not an obligation, you’re my _friend_ and I like having you around-”

“-and I didn’t want you wasting your time if you weren’t feeling it. Wait, what?”

Blaine sighed, laughing a little as he buried his face in his hands. “We are so dumb.”

“The dumbest,” Sebastian agreed, pulling Blaine’s hands down until he was looking at him. “Does this mean you like me for more than my sheer animal magnetism?”

“I dunno,” Blaine said, “does this mean you’re going to be at rehearsal this afternoon?”

When Sebastian kissed him, for real this time, it felt an awful lot like a yes.

* * *

He was proven right when Sebastian showed up to rehearsal later that afternoon, contritely apologizing for going AWOL and promising to do better. Blaine realized he was proud of Sebastian--he was showing some serious personal growth, and if he could keep it up they might actually have a shot. A shot at what, he didn’t know. A relationship? Winning regionals? All of the above? Whatever it was, it was worth pursuing.

Blaine, Sebastian, and every single one of the Warblers threw themselves wholeheartedly into rehearsals for regionals. Their sectionals had been late this year, so they didn’t have as much time as usual to prepare. It was decided that “Some Nights,” while arranged well, wasn’t intense enough for the faster pace of regionals, and an overwhelming majority voted to keep “Uptown Funk” but close instead with “I Knew You Were Trouble.”

Blaine had always considered himself more of a Katy than a Taylor, but the Warblers had spoken and he was secretly proud that they’d chosen a female pop anthem. It was one thing he’d always have a soft spot for, and he was happy to see it make its triumphant return to Dalton.

Sebastian was appalled by the decision, citing what he felt were several better choices, but he graciously kept his mouth shut in front of the boys and Blaine found some creative ways to shut him up when he complained too vehemently.

It went on like that for weeks, punishing rehearsals and epic arrangements and endless debates over choreography. Blaine and Sebastian barely had time to think, let alone have a real conversation about what they were doing, settling for hastily making out anywhere they thought they wouldn’t get caught and parting ways in the parking lot every night.

Two days before regionals, Blaine had his first meltdown. Really, it was a miracle he’d made it that far. He and Sebastian were in his bedroom on a Wednesday night; Blaine had invited Sebastian back to his house to go over some final notes and Sebastian had agreed once it was mentioned that Blaine’s parents wouldn’t be home. Sebastian was sitting on Blaine’s bed watching him pace the floor and rant.

“I mean, I know we’ve never pinned the ties before and the blazers do a pretty good job of holding them in place but just think about how classy it would look, and do you think we can even get that many matching tie pins by Friday? We might have to put a rush on them but I’m sure Dalton will cover it, if not I have some money saved up-” Sebastian laughing at him caused Blaine to stop pacing.

“Blaine,” Sebastian said, “we’ve been over this a million times. We’ve been over everything a million times. It’s flawless and you know it. Calm down.”

“It has to be perfect, Sebastian,” Blaine said, wringing his hands. “I need it to be perfect.”

The smile on Sebastian’s face faded. “I know you’re competitive but this is a little extreme, don’t you think? And that’s coming from _me_.”

Blaine rubbed at his temples, tired. “I need this to be good because I need to be able to prove to everyone that I can _make_ it good.”

Sebastian stopped smiling altogether. “You need it to be good to prove it to Kurt.” Blaine hadn’t felt the need to specify who he was talking about, but apparently Sebastian had. “You know what?” Sebastian asked. “Fuck Kurt. Do it to prove it to yourself. You’ve created something good here. You did it without anyone’s validation or permission or fucking acceptance. You don’t need it, Blaine.”

And right there, in so few words, Sebastian summed up exactly what Blaine had needed to hear. This wasn’t about getting back at Rachel or impressing Kurt or showing up the New Directions. This was about what he’d done, what they’d done, him and the Warblers. He realized that even though Sebastian’s help was much appreciated, he could have done it alone. He didn’t need anyone’s approval but his own.

Blaine didn’t think twice about pouncing on Sebastian, pushing him back onto the bed and pressing him into the mattress with a kiss that put their hasty makeouts to shame. He didn’t need anyone’s validation but his own, he didn’t need to do anything just for anyone else, so now it was time to do what he wanted. What he wanted was Sebastian.

He straddled Sebastian’s hips, the act of rolling his own down to meet them sending him from zero to sixty in seconds. Sebastian made a muffled noise of approval against Blaine’s mouth and brought a hand up to the back of his neck to pull him closer. Blaine braced himself on one arm, hoping he wasn’t crushing Sebastian too much by resting the majority of his weight on his torso, and reached up to cup Sebastian’s jaw with his free hand.

They stayed like that for a little while, making out was nothing new for them by then, what was new was the way Blaine was starting to get hard against Sebastian’s hip and the way Sebastian seemed to be reciprocating. Blaine rolled his hips a little harder, grinning when Sebastian groaned. He pulled his hand away from Sebastian’s face, shifting his weight to the side in favor of getting it up Sebastian’s shirt and running it appreciatively over his abs. 

“We’re not seventeen, you know,” Sebastian said, but he was a little too breathless for Blaine to take his exasperation seriously. “If you want me to take off my shirt you can just take it off.” Blaine laughed but did just that, sitting up to give Sebastian enough room to pull his shirt up and off, shedding his own in the process. When he finally situated himself back on top of Sebastian, Blaine dragged his fingers down his side, noticing the slight tremor in his torso whenever Blaine brought them close to the waistband of his jeans.

“Is this okay?” he asked, toying with the button on Sebastian’s fly.

Sebastian groaned again, this time a little louder. “Fuck yes, it is so okay,” he said, eyes fluttering shut. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, don’t hold back on me now.”

The idea that Sebastian had been wanting this all along turned Blaine on almost as much as the fact that he had Sebastian underneath him, telling him to take his clothes off. “Awesome,” Blaine said, popping the button and pulling the zipper down. It took a little doing but Sebastian was able to slide his jeans and his underwear off until he was finally, gloriously naked and Blaine had a hand on his cock. It was too much for a minute, and too dry on top of that, but fortunately Blaine had lube and Sebastian only mocked him for how quickly he was able to get it until Blaine was working him over again.

Blaine tried to act like he knew what he was doing, like he didn’t feel like a scared virgin all over again, but the sounds Sebastian was making served as excellent encouragement, and after a few minutes everything seemed to fall into place. Sebastian’s back was arching against the bed, one hand gripping the sheets for dear life while the other scrambled to hold on to whatever part of Blaine he could reach. Blaine relished every noise, every shudder, every twitch of Sebastian’s hips up into his hand as he experimented with tighter, faster, harder.

He was doing something right, if the way Sebastian was starting to lose it was any indication. Blaine had never seen him with his guard this far down, not even when he’d been so wrecked following the slushie incident. This was new and it was thrilling and Blaine wanted more. He leaned in to kiss Sebastian and Sebastian responded eagerly, pushing himself up and into Blaine’s hand a few more times before coming with a low moan against Blaine’s lips.

Blaine was about to say something; what, he didn’t know, but Sebastian didn’t give him the chance. He flipped them almost effortlessly, revealing a strength from years of lacrosse and dancing that Blaine had almost forgotten he had. Sebastian kissed the spot behind Blaine’s ear and then did it again when Blaine angled his head to make it easier. He got a little too eager as he kissed his way down Blaine’s neck though, and Blaine had to give him a warning, “Careful,” before he left any lasting marks.

“Alright, alright,” Sebastian said, failing to sound truly disappointed as Blaine could feel him smiling against his skin. “I promise I won’t leave anything where anyone can see. Everywhere else is fair game though.”

Blaine nodded enthusiastically, not trusting his voice as Sebastian brushed his fingers across one of Blaine’s nipples, and soon discovered that Sebastian wasn’t kidding. He left marks down Blaine’s chest and on his ribs, and once he’d gotten Blaine’s pants off, Sebastian didn’t hesitate to suck bruises all up his inner thighs. Blaine made a mental note to tease him for possessively marking his territory later, but the thought flew out of his head as soon as Sebastian got straight to business and sank his mouth over Blaine’s cock.

It was electric, and Blaine couldn’t help but think that he was made for this, that this was how he was supposed to feel in moments like these. Something was clicking in him that had never clicked before, and he held on to Sebastian’s hands where they were gripping his hips like they’d somehow anchor him in the moment. Somehow, they did.

It wasn’t long before he was close, too close, and he let go of Sebastian’s hands to wind his fingers into Sebastian’s hair. He tried to convey what was happening without words, but it wasn’t enough. "Sebastian," Blaine whined, working his hands more securely into Sebastian's hair and pulling. Taking the hint, Sebastian pulled off, breathing heavily against Blaine's hip and working him quickly with his hand instead.

"Come on, Blaine. I've got you."

And that was all it took. Blaine rocked his hips up one final time and came, shuddering out an orgasm unlike any he’d had before. It took him a minute to become aware of his surroundings again, but when he did, Sebastian was laughing quietly against his stomach. “What?” he asked, momentarily worried that he’d done something wrong.

“Nothing,” Sebastian said, still laughing. “That was just so much better than I ever thought it would be. And I thought about it a lot.”

Blaine laughed with him, and for once, it seemed like everything was going right.

* * *

Blaine had suggested giving the boys Thursday off to rest up before regionals, but Sebastian pointed out that they’d be too restless to do nothing and that another day of rehearsal, albeit an easy one, would be good for morale and keep them from getting too antsy. He was right, and the short practice went smoothly, leaving the guys feeling more prepared than ever.

By Friday afternoon, everything was ready and there was no point in worrying anymore. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen, and it was out of Blaine’s hands. Regionals was a bit more of a trip than invitationals or sectionals had been, so Dalton had provided the Warblers with a bus. The ride was full of the same kind of fun Blaine remembered from his days in the group, everyone singing a silly cover of “Bang Bang” to “warm up” until Sebastian had to remind them to save it for the competition.

Once they made it to the auditorium they filed in, finding their seats quickly and settling in for the show. They were going last so they had some time to take in the competition. Vocal Adrenaline went first, and they were as intimidatingly overproduced as always. What Sue had accomplished with them was incredible, but when Blaine looked over at Sebastian, he seemed unimpressed. That was somehow comforting, and Blaine sat through the rest of the performance noting all the ways in which it was too flashy instead of worrying about their chances. 

New Directions was next, and Blaine had to hand it to Kurt and Rachel, they had certainly made lemonade out of lemons. “Take Me To Church” was inspired, Roderick was a talented guy and the arrangement was impressive. “Chandelier” was… something else. The new girl had a great voice, and Blaine could see where they were going with the child in a wig, but the judges didn’t seem impressed and when Blaine looked back over at Sebastian, he was trying not to laugh. So that was something.

As they transitioned into the third number that New Directions somehow always managed to add despite everyone else doing two, Blaine kept waiting for a solo that never came. As weird as it was to see one of his friends as a student as he sat in the audience as a director, Blaine knew Kitty was crushing it. Everyone else was great too, but they were missing something that Blaine felt was kind of important.

Jane didn’t have any solos. He would have thought that after the ordeal it took to get her, Kurt and Rachel would have used her talent as more than just a background vocalist. He couldn’t imagine how that must’ve felt for her, transferring schools with the promise of more focus only to be pushed to the back of the lineup. It was a waste of good talent, and Blaine felt their performances suffered for it.

Finally, it was their turn. Blaine and Sebastian watched from the wings as the Warblers slayed their numbers. They’d learned early on that “Uptown Funk” would be a hit but the response to “I Knew You Were Trouble” surprised them all. The audience went nuts, and Blaine couldn’t see individuals from backstage, but he was willing to bet that even the members of Vocal Adrenaline were shaking in their boots. He clapped a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, so proud of what they’d accomplished.

Before he knew what was happening, Blaine was onstage with the boys and with Sebastian, waiting for the results. Third place, Vocal Adrenaline. It almost surprised Blaine that they’d come in last, as overproduced as the performance had been, it had been executed near perfectly. Still, it was up to the judges’ discretion, and Blaine had a feeling it had been too much for them.

He heard a voice announce, “...and now, the winner-” and braced himself. Part of him wasn’t worried, he knew how good his team was, but at the same time he knew how well New Directions could pull a victory out of a scrappy underdog performance. When he looked over at Sebastian, he was as impassive as ever, and his lack of outward nervousness helped Blaine calm some of his.

When the Warblers won, the audience exploded. Confetti fell, and Blaine felt himself being pulled into a tight hug by Sebastian. The victory was somehow so much better with him around, and Blaine held on tightly before releasing him in favor of congratulating the boys. They were ecstatic, this meant a trip to nationals, and after all they’d been through they seemed to collectively agree that they had a shot at winning that too. Blaine handed off the trophy to one of the guys, thankful they had a bus to bring it home on rather than trying to squeeze it into his tiny car. 

He risked a glance at New Directions and momentarily felt his heart sink a little. They looked devastated, and Blaine couldn’t blame them. A lot had been riding on this victory and they’d had the talent, just not the manpower. He was pulled back into the moment, _his_ moment, by Sebastian grabbing his elbow. They were making their way off the stage, the last of the confetti having fallen, the competition having been won. 

They got as far as the parking lot, Sebastian promising the victory-high Warblers that if they behaved they could stop at the Chipotle in Westerville, when it all came crashing down. The last of the boys were on the bus, leaving only Sebastian and Blaine to exchange a quick kiss when they thought no one was watching.

Someone was watching.

Kurt’s voice startled Blaine out of the daze he’d been in since they’d been announced the winners. They hadn’t seen each other in ages, and Blaine waited for the rush of old hurt to hit him, but it never came. 

“You know, I wasn’t sure what was going on with you, but it all makes sense now,” Kurt said. “What did he convince you to do? More steroids? Bribing the judges? No wonder you guys won, leave it to Sebastian Smythe to play dirty.”

“Maybe we were just better than you,” Sebastian said, but Blaine stilled him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t,” he said, but Kurt wasn’t giving up. 

“You know, Blaine,” he said. “You’re worth more than whatever he’s giving you.”

That got Blaine’s attention. “What the hell do you know what I’m worth?” he asked, seeing red. He felt Sebastian step back, and was grateful to be left to fight his own battles for once. Kurt was visibly taken aback, and Rachel at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

“We were engaged,” Kurt said, seeming legitimately confused. “I know you better than anyone.”

Blaine scoffed, surprised at his own reaction. Judging by the look on his face, so was Kurt. “You really think that’s true? Kurt, you don’t know me at all. You never did, and you never wanted to. You just wanted someone to make you feel better about yourself, regardless of how it made me feel.”

“Blaine, is this really neces-” Rachel started, but Blaine cut her off.

“Yeah, actually, it is necessary. You don’t have to stay for this though, I have no issue with you.” Blaine legitimately didn’t have any problem with Rachel, he was still a little hurt by the way she’d treated him after the Jane situation, but on a certain level, he understood it. She’d been trying to do right by her team; Blaine’s feelings getting stepped on had just been unfortunate collateral damage. Rachel stepped to the side but didn’t leave and Blaine found he didn’t really care either way.

“And Sebastian makes you feel good?” Kurt asked, starting to get angry.

“He doesn’t make me feel insecure or like I don’t matter, so…” Blaine let the sentence hang.

“He threw _rock salt_ in your _face_ ,” Kurt said, and Blaine could recognize by then when he was gearing up for a fight. For once, Blaine felt prepared to fight back.

“Yeah, but you know what? He respected me enough to apologize, which is not something you _ever_ did. All I ever got from you was, ‘I’m sorry you feel that way,’ which I think you and I both know means nothing. You were never sorry for _making_ me feel that way and honestly I’m not sure it would have mattered to you even if you’d realized you were doing it.”

Kurt was shaken, Blaine could tell. “I loved you, Blaine,” he said. And there it was, past-tense. 

“No,” Blaine answered. “You loved what you thought you could make of me. There’s a difference.” As Blaine said it, he knew it was true. Kurt had never known the real him, not really. It was partially Blaine’s fault, he’d been too acquiescent, too willing to give himself wholly to what he thought was the love of his life. But he was done feeling responsible for where things went wrong. He was done feeling guilty. He was done feeling ashamed.

“Fine,” Kurt said, taking a step back. “Go back to Dalton with your scumbag boyfriend if that’s what helps you sleep at night.”

“Just walk away Kurt,” Blaine said. “It’s what you’re good at.”

And Kurt did just that, grabbing Rachel and walking briskly back to where the New Directions were waiting on their own bus. Blaine watched him go, but not wistfully. More like how he’d take a minute to stare at the cover of a book once he’d finished it. 

He was startled out of his daze by Sebastian cracking up behind him. “Oh my god,” he said. “That was amazing. Do you have any idea how hard it was to not laugh though all of that? Holy shit Blaine, that was beautiful.”

Blaine turned around to see Sebastian wiping tears out of his eyes as he continued to laugh, and Blaine couldn’t help but laugh too. Part of him felt bad that things had to end on that kind of note, but a much larger part of him felt freer than it had in a long time. He felt lighter, like a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders. He realized that he no longer had anything to prove, no unrealistic expectations to meet, no one to be good enough for. He was good enough for himself, and that was what mattered. 

“Come on,” he said, gesturing to the bus where a team of hungry Warblers were probably anxiously waiting for their promised Chipotle. “Thank you,” he added.

“Don’t thank me,” Sebastian said, “that was all you. I knew you had it in you to stand up for yourself.”

Blaine grinned, glad he finally had. “Let’s go,” he said. “I think we’ve earned some burritos.”

When they finally climbed onto the bus, the entire team cheered. They’d worked hard and it had paid off. They’d won. Nationals were in LA and were fast approaching. Blaine would have to call Cooper, he was going to be so proud.

“Let’s go guys,” Blaine said to the bus full of overjoyed Warblers. “We have a lot of work to do.”

**Author's Note:**

>   
> [Some Nights](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bDzlJJfhfeg)  
> [Uptown Funk](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LBvq69y581E)  
> [Bang Bang](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S0nj7DT6Ghk)  
>  and my true inspiration -  
> [I Knew You Were Trouble](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMouw0S3W20)  
> 


End file.
